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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272585">Part of the Family</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/salenaRD/pseuds/salenaRD'>salenaRD</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(spoiler alert she gets one), Caring Scrooge McDuck, Found Family, Gen, Honorary Duck Family Member Webby Vanderquack, Scrooge apologizes (like Webby DESERVES), Uncle-Niece Relationship, Webby needs a hug, post-Moonvasion, this is a little bit of a mess but I love it all the same, wholesome content</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:20:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/salenaRD/pseuds/salenaRD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Webby's finally found a family in the McDucks, but even now she can't escape the reminders that she's an outsider.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Scrooge McDuck &amp; Webby Vanderquack</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>119</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Part of the Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Webby glanced up from her breakfast as Dewey bounced into the dining room, humming something to himself. She smiled; he was just the duck she wanted to see. “You’re awfully cheerful this morning," she observed around a mouthful of toast.</p><p>“Mom and I are mapping out a path to some lost treasure today!” Dewey said. “It’s gonna be <em> awesome </em>. Mom and Dewey, gonna dewey the job!” he sang, punching the air. </p><p>The question Webby had been about to ask died in her throat. “O— oh, okay. Have fun!”</p><p>“We will!” Dewey danced past her into the kitchen, still singing. “Dewey and Del-la—”</p><p>Webby swallowed the last of her juice and hopped down from the table. She had been planning on asking Dewey to go with her to the McDuck archives, as there were some gaps in her research board that she just <em> knew </em> could be filled by a little time in Scrooge’s private library; unfortunately, it looked like that wouldn’t be the case today.</p><p>Webby couldn’t say she was surprised; Dewey had been interested enough in the archives’ contents when they’d been researching Della and the Spear of Selene, but with that mystery solved, books weren’t quite at the top of Dewey’s interests list.</p><p>But Webby wasn’t going to let that stop her— especially not when there were two other triplets who could serve as her ticket to the most amazing collection of information in the world! Huey would appreciate the vast stores of knowledge contained in the archives, Webby knew. With her target decided, she set out for the red-wearing duck.</p><p>She finally found him on the edge of the forest. “Hey, Huey, do you want to—” Webby paused. “What are you doing?”</p><p>Huey looked up from his position kneeling on the ground, arms buried up to the elbows in dirt. “Oh, hey, Webby. I’m just working on earning my Junior Woodchuck badge for wild plant cultivation.” Pulling his arms out of the ground, he nodded to what Webby had assumed were weeds. “I’m experimenting on the effects of sunlight on wildflowers.” Huey stood up and brushed off his arms as he turned to Webby. “Anyways, what were you gonna ask?”</p><p>Webby felt her enthusiasm dim; two triplets down. “I want to go to the archives today for some research, but so far both you and Dewey have been busy.”</p><p>“Aw man, I’d love to join you, but—” Huey gestured to the plants and his dirty arms. “Why don’t you go by yourself? Just ask Launchpad to give you a ride over.”</p><p>Webby shrugged. “Oh, you know how Quackfaster is. ‘Only the heirs of Clan McDuck may enter the archives!’” she cried, doing a passable impression of the library’s guardian.</p><p>Huey made a face. “I understand the whole 'protecting knowledge’ thing, but she can be pretty intense. Besides, even if you’re not technically Clan McDuck, you’re still part of our family.” He hesitated, then looked at Webby. “Why don’t you ask Uncle Scrooge to have Quackfaster give you permisson to enter the archives on your own? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind; he knows how much you like it in there.” </p><p>“Oh, no.” Webby shook her head perhaps a bit more aggressively than was warranted. “I don’t want to bother him about it. It’s no big deal, really. I’ll just ask Louie—have you seen him?”</p><p>Huey looked as if he didn’t entirely believe her ‘no big deal’, but he didn’t push it. “I think he’s already at the bin, actually. Something about a meeting with some ‘potential investors.’” Huey dropped his voice. “It’s probably just an excuse for him to try and swim in Scrooge’s gold.”</p><p>Webby laughed. “I’ll go ahead over, then. Good luck getting your badge!”</p><p>“Thanks.” Huey paused. “Webby. . . Y’know, technically, Dewey and Louie and I aren’t McDucks either.” He hesitated, looking like he wanted to say more but wasn’t quite sure how to.</p><p>Webby thought she understood what he was trying to get across, though. “Thanks, Huey.”</p><p>Huey placed one of the plants in a hole and patted some dirt around it. “You’re family, Webby, no matter what crazy old Quackfaster says. You don’t need entrance to the archives to know that. But— just ask Uncle Scrooge about it. He’ll say yes.”</p><p>Webby gave a small smile and a noncommittal shrug as she started back towards the mansion. All of his words were ones she'd told herself many times, but no matter how often she repeated them she couldn’t squash the doubt that rose in her.</p><p>The doubt that said she would never <em> really </em> be a part of this family.</p><p>Webby knew she shouldn’t think like that; how many times had Granny drilled into her that a spy should be confident in her actions? Self-doubt had never been a part of Webby’s personality—after all, she was proficient in six types of karate and almost every weapon imaginable. Webby could free herself from ropes and defeat Beagle Boys and win every last game of laser tag.</p><p>But being part of a family? That was something Webby, even after a year, felt embarrassingly incompotent at. And so the doubt crept in, feeding off the words of Scrooge said half a year before:</p><p><em> “This is a family matter! </em> You <em> are not family!” </em></p><p>And that was why Webby couldn’t ask Scrooge for access to the archives as Huey suggested, why she had to settle for getting one of the triplets to go with her every time. </p><p>Because she was terrified of the answer she might receive.</p><p>She and Scrooge had never spoken of the words said in the heat of his anger. After Magica was defeated, there was so much to do—cleaning up, preparing to rebuild the money bin—and after that the Sunchaser’s crash felt so far away, Webby thought it was easier to just try to forget about it. She knew Scrooge hadn’t meant his words; many hurtful things were said that day that weren’t meant. So Webby forgave him, and had even gone back to calling him “Uncle Scrooge.” Everything returned to normal—or at least, what counted as normal when you lived and adventured with Scrooge McDuck.</p><p>But even forgiveness couldn’t hide the fact that he was right: Webby <em> wasn’t </em> family, at least not by blood. And maybe that wasn’t what was really important, but it mattered to Quackfaster. Maybe it mattered to Scrooge, too. Besides, Webby knew it was selfish to even wish for access to the archives. Only those with the blood and DNA of clan McDuck were allowed inside; that was the way things had always been. Why should she be any different?</p><p>So yes, she <em> could </em> do as Huey suggested and ask Scrooge if she could have permanent access to the archives, but—</p><p>What if he said no?</p><p>What if Webby found out once and for all that she would never really be a part of their family?</p><p>She couldn’t risk it, no matter how paranoid and unfounded those fears may be. </p><p>* * *</p><p>One terrifying ride from Launchpad later, Webby arrived at the money bin. Inside, her feet moved almost on their own accord to her entrance of the archives, where just outside of Webby’s reach lay all the information she could ever want or need. Standing there and staring up at the doors sent a feeling of deja vu coursing through her; how many times had Webby stood in that spot growing up, wishing for a way to get inside? So many things in her life had changed since then, and yet this stayed the same.</p><p>“C’mon, Webby, there’s no use in feeling sorry for yourself!” she said, shaking her head. “Let’s go find Louie and do some research! That’ll cheer you up.” Webby turned the corner towards the business room—</p><p>—and nearly ran into Scrooge.</p><p>His arms shot out to stabilize her. “Bless me bagpipes, Webby, watch where you’re going!”</p><p>“Oh! Sorry, Uncle Scrooge,” Webby said. “I didn’t see you there.”</p><p>“Eh, no harm done,” Scrooge said, brushing off the front of his suit. “Now, what are you doing here? I don’t suppose you want to join Louie in his meeting.”</p><p>“Wait, he actually <em> is </em> in a meeting?” Webby shook her head. “Huh. Didn’t see that coming.” As she said it, though, she sighed internally. Three triplets down; it looked like she’d have to save the trip to the archives for another day. </p><p>“He really is a chip off the old block, eh?” Scrooge smirked as he straightened his jacket. “The lad’s come a long way. But ye didn’t answer my question—why <em> are </em>you here?”</p><p>“Oh, I—I was gonna visit the archives.” Webby suddenly felt very warm—had the furnace kicked in? No, that was impossible; Scrooge only turned on the heat when the temperature got below zero, to save on electrical bills. </p><p>“‘Was gonna?’ Who’s stopping you?” Scrooge raised an eyebrow. </p><p>Yep, it was definitely getting hot in here. Webby spoke quickly, trying to get the words out and over with. “Well, technically Quackfaster is. But that’s just because of the system—not that I have anything against the system!” she added hastily. “It’s a good system! Protecting knowledge is important, I get it. Quackfaster is just doing her job.” Webby paused. “Even if I’m still not sure why she needs a sword for it. I guess just cuz swords are awesome.” She shook her head. “But seriously, I’m fine!”</p><p>Scrooge stared at her with an expression that could only be described as complete confusion. “What in the blazes are you blathering on about?”</p><p>“I—” Webby sighed. “Only people who are related to you are allowed entrance to the archives, so I need one of the triplets to get in. But since they’re all busy—”</p><p>Scrooge looked momentarily stunned, then let out a bark of laughter. “Why didn’t ye just say that to begin with? I’d be glad to accompany you to the archives!”</p><p>“You would?” Webby couldn’t stop a wide grin. “Thanks, Uncle Scrooge!”</p><p>“No, thank <em> you </em>.” Scrooge shot a glance in the direction of his office. “I’ll take any excuse I can get to escape those belligerent buzzards; they’ve been on my back even more than usual about ‘unnecessary spending.’” He snorted. “To think: Scrooge McDuck, spending unnecessary money! The thought is absurd!”</p><p>Webby nodded agreement. “You’d never do that.”</p><p>“Aye,” Scrooge said, then paused and gave her a contemplative look. “And you’d know better than most anyone, wouldn’t you—your granny’s told me about your research board on my family. Very impressive. I can’t imagine you needing much more information from the archives than what you’ve already got.”</p><p>“Oh, no.” Webby shook her head emphatically, although inwardly she glowed at his compliment. “I could never match the information in the archives! They have <em> all </em> the McDuck family history going back for years and years and <em> years </em>; I’ve barely scratched the surface with my research.”</p><p>Scrooge laughed. “I’d say you know more than you think.” He paused, a small frown forming on his beak. “But you say you can’t get into the archives on your own?”</p><p>Webby wished she could stop being reminded of that fact. “N—no, I can’t.” </p><p>“Well— I think it’s high time we changed that, eh lass?” Scrooge smiled and winked at her. “I’ll have a chat with Quackfaster about it when we get in there.”</p><p> “I—” Webby rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Scrooge’s waist. “Thank you thank you thank you!” she squealed, squeezing him as tightly as she could.</p><p>“It’s—it’s nothing, lass,” Scrooge said, his voice coming out slightly pinched as he gently patted her back. “Now—could you maybe loosen your grip a smidgen? I can’t—can’t quite breathe.”</p><p>“Oh—sorry.” Webby sheepishly took a step back as Scrooge straightened his coat and hat. </p><p>Scrooge hesitated, then cocked his head at her. “You know, you really should have asked me about this sooner. I’d have been more than willing to give you access.”</p><p>Webby twirled a strand of hair around her finger, staring at the floor as heat burned in her cheeks. “I— I wasn’t sure what you’d say.”</p><p>“Wasn’t sure—Webby, why ever would I tell you no?” Scrooge’s expression was genuinely bemused. “You’re one of the only people I know who actually <em> enjoys </em>spending time with those dusty old books.” </p><p>“Well. . .you know. . .only the heirs of Clan McDuck have ever been allowed in the archives,” Webby said, hair twirling tighter around her finger. Part of her wondered why she was telling Scrooge this—especially right after all her fears had been proven wrong—but she couldn’t seem to stop the stream of words that flowed out of her. “Members of your family. And—and I know that <em> I </em> feel like I’m a part of the family, but— back on the Sunchaser—when we found out about the Spear of Selene—”</p><p>Scrooge’s eyes widened with memory and realization. “Webbigail—”</p><p>Webby squeezed her eyes shut. “You said I wasn’t family.” And there it was, her fears laid out in the open. “And I know that you were angry and hurt and probably didn’t mean it, but— I was afraid that some part of you <em> did </em>think that. So I didn’t want to ask, because then I would know for sure, and—I might not like the answer.”</p><p>There was a moment of silence as Webby slowly opened her eyes. When she did, she saw Scrooge staring at her with an expression she hadn’t before seen on his face. He opened his beak, then closed it, then opened it again. “Webby—lass—<em> believe me </em> when I say that you’re just as much a part of this family as any of the boys are.” He paused and fiddled with his cane, looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself. “And—and I made a mistake on the Sunchaser. A lot of mistakes, actually, but—I never, <em> never </em>should have said that you weren’t family. I’m sorry that I ever did.”</p><p>Webby blinked hard to hold back the tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks, and for the second time in as many minutes rushed forward to give Scrooge a hug—this time, being sure not to squeeze <em> quite </em>so hard. “Thank you, Uncle Scrooge,” she said, face buried in his coat.</p><p>He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Now then, we’d better go make sure Quackfaster knows that Webby Vanderquack is an heir of Clan McDuck and ought to be treated as such, eh? And you can tell me about what you’re researching right now—perhaps I can be of some assistance. It is my family, after all.” He paused. “<em> Our </em> family.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>That night, Webby stood in front of her McDuck Family Research Board, hands full of string and thumbtacks. With Scrooge’s help, she had managed to fill in several gaps on the board and even fix a minor mistake—someone was a cousin <em> twice </em> removed, not once. </p><p>Webby hesitated as she looked at the scribbled drawing of her, tucked down in the bottom right corner. Only two strings connected it to the rest of the board: one going from her to the picture of Granny, the other going to the triplets. For a short while, after the defeat of Black Heron, there had been a third string—one connecting her to Scrooge— but she’d taken it down after the Sunchaser and had never felt bold enough to replace it.</p><p>Now, though. . . Webby tied a pink strand of yarn to her thumbtack and stretched it up to the photo of Scrooge, looping it around the pin along with the many others wrapped around it. </p><p>She took a step back and smiled at her handiwork, making a mental note to talk to Granny about getting some more bulletin boards so she could expand the family tree further; now that she could go to the archives whenever she wanted, there was a whole new <em> world </em>of information just waiting to be unlocked.</p><p>Staring at the mess of yarn, scraps of paper, and photos stretched in front of her, Webby was struck by just how <em> weird </em> the McDuck family was. It twisted every which way across the board, yarn spiraling from person to person. It was convoluted and backwards and a lot of the time didn’t even make a whole lot of sense.</p><p>But it was <em> her </em> family, and Webby wouldn’t change it for the world. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>still holding out for Scrooge apologizing in season 3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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